::in the beginning::

word count: 456

there are 3 essays. this is the last (& very necessary) open-ended essay. per UC requirements, my three essays may not exceed 1000 words. one essay must be at least 600 words, but no more than 630. the other 2 should be around 200. therefore, this puppy either needs to fatten itself up a bit or trim some fat of the edge. or a little of both.

now, seriously, how often do you get to see the birthing of someone's future education on the 'net? wish me luck. offer your best thoughts. be constructive. try not to make me cry.

* * * * *

1997 left me trembling in its wake. I met my future husband. My parents moved out of state. I, on the cusp of my twenty-first birthday, determinedly stayed on in my lifelong locale of Southern California.

My first living arrangement fell apart and I moved in what would be the first of six makeshift homes and five different roommates before settling down in San Clemente in August of 1998. Over the next three years, I worked steadily at various trades. I was Assistant Manager at a breakfast restaurant. I sought to unwind with a brief stint at a coffee shop. In 2000, I became acquainted with the banking industry, which is where I am today. A brief lunacy overcame me as I left banking for almost exactly one year when I accepted My Worst and Most Stressful Job Ever. At least it was only a year.

School, ever lingering in the back of my mind, came and went like a part-time lover. The affairs were torrid, but brief; often ending in a fit of depressed good-byes. Each time the withdrawal left me frustrated with my circumstances and wishing for more time, more energy, fewer debts. Married to independence, I always yielded to the demands which came monthly to my door. But my insatiable desire for education hovered. Watching. Willing. Waiting.

The gross number of withdrawals on my transcript wreaks absolute havoc on my confidence. It is such an awful misrepresentation of my abilities. Others have overcome worse obstacles. However, this was no minor hurdle. For me, this was the high jump; I am only five foot six and hardly limber enough to overcome that. Moreover, I spent many years honing in on my major. I toyed with music first, then elementary education, before settling in to focus on my writing ambitions.

It is nearly ten years since I graduated high school. Prior to meeting my future husband, I was accepted to Southern Oregon University. Planning on relocating with my parents, I deferred my enrollment for one year after high school. But sometimes the ties that bind need breaking and I am pleased with the path I have traveled these past years.

No longer shaken by lack of a home or strapped to tend to the bills on my own, I find myself excited about my education unlike anything else I've experienced previously in relation to my education. There is pride in my step as I stride into my classes at the local community college. There is a confidence so distinctly different and separate from most of those who surround me in the classroom. I am ready. I am furious for learning. I am steady. I am passionate about writing.

I am not a child any longer.